She set the platter on the granite island, looked down at Emma lying motionless on the floor, and didn’t drop her hands or hurry over to help the child.

Instead, Patricia went straight to Vanessa, who was standing frozen by the open refrigerator with her face flushed bright red.

Patricia reached out, grabbed Vanessa hard by the upper arm, and shook her once to get her attention.

“Wipe the pan handle with a dish towel right now,” Patricia ordered on the clear audio.

Her voice was sharp and commanding, wrapped in that familiar tone of strict motherly authority.

“She sat in Olivia’s spot,” Vanessa whined on the screen, her arms snapping tight across her chest again.